


tickled pink

by TheIttyBitty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Popular Dean Winchester, Punk Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 03:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10453602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIttyBitty/pseuds/TheIttyBitty
Summary: it's pretty clear that he shouldn't be anywhere near Certified Punk Loser Castiel Novak. The guy has better things to do than hang out with a grungy weirdo.And yet,





	

Dean Winchester is a Disney princess, Castiel is sure of it. He has Evidence.

  1. he's got a chiseled jaw sharp enough to kill a man

  2. horribly clear skin

  3. entirely infuriating dimples

  4. he's blond, but not _too_ blond

  5. his eyes are a shade of green that does not exist in nature. The first time he saw them, Castiel was sure they were contacts

  6. this boy has fucking muscles for days, arms like tiny trees that bulge out of his t-shirts all over the place. And yet, Castiel has never seen him work out. More evidence to be gathered.

  7. He can sing like fucking Beyonce. It's a secret, but one time castiel heard him singing in the locker room and he almost passed out

  8. he honest to god always has, like, woodland creatures coming up to him. Butterflies will land on him. On more than one occasion castiel has seem him trailed by kittens 

  9. his smile could melt the polar ice caps

  10. he is, hands down, the nicest person Castiel has ever met. He's kind to _everyone_.

  11. going with that, everyone likes dean. No one has a bad thing to say about him, his popularity spans all social circles and cliques _and_ it doesn't get to his head. He's genuinely a sweetheart




 

All that said, it's pretty clear that he shouldn't be anywhere near Certified Punk Loser Castiel Novak. Like sure, Castiel expects a friendly smile in passing here and there because Dean is an actual angel as well as his next door neighbor, but the guy has better things to do than hang out with a grungy weirdo.

And yet,

“Hey Cas.”

Dean Winchester sits down cheerfully next to Castiel on the steps of the Novak front porch.

“Uh.” Says Castiel.

“What are you up to?”

“Um.” Says Castiel, he wets his lips and tries again, “Just chillin'.” Nice. Very cool.

“Yeah? I'm not doing anything either. Everybody's out, I'm bored as hell.”

Castiel grins despite himself, nudging his own scuffed boot against Dean's sneaker. “Better not let your mama hear you cursing, Beaver.”

“Fuck off.” Says Dean.

“ _Oh_ , wow. Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“I'm fucking with you, dude.”

Dean sighs. “I know.”

Castiel leans back on his elbows, stretching his legs and letting his knees fall apart, one of them rests against Dean's. His stomach does somersaults. “So, what's up with you?”

Dean looks at him, smiles his small, gentle smile. “Not much. I was thinking about you, I miss when we used to hang out, you know?”

_I was thinking about you_ . 

How can he just say it? How can he just say,  _I was thinking about you_ , like it's no big deal? Like he hasn't just fucking punched Castiel in the heart. It's not as if they ever even hung out  _much_ . Dean moved next door the summer they were fifteen. And yeah, they were friends, but only for that one summer. Then, well, things happen. People grow apart. Mostly, Castiel developed a massive crush on Dean and, terrified his friend would find out, pulled away. That's been about three years ago.

Castiel takes a breath, musters his courage. “Yeah,” He says, at long last, “Me too.”

“So, I was thinking,” Says Dean, looking excited, “You could help me with something.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Anyone else and he's say no straight away. But this is Dean, and what kind of heartless monster would he have to be to say no to that face?

“Well, you do your own hair, right?”

“Yeah,” Castiel has been dying his own hair for years now. It's been pretty much every color under the sun, but he's been settled on a dark blue for a while now.

“I was thinking... you could help me dye mine?”

Castiel blinks. His heart seizes. “You... want to dye... your hair?”

“Yeah.” Dean says, he's grinning now, bottom lip captured between his teeth. 

“ _You_ want to dye _your hair_?”

“Yes!”

“What the f- _why_?”

Dean frowns, “I think it looks neat.”

Castiel has a million questions and arguments lined up on his tongue, but with that sad little frown, Dean slays them all. Who is Castiel to say anything about anyone's hair? 

“Okay.” He says, “Okay, lets do it. Lets dye your hair.”

 

To Castiel's combined dismay and delight, Dean wants to dye his hair pink. Pastel pink. It looks like cotton candy. Castiel will never be able to look at cotton candy again. In Castiel's bathroom, dye stained and reeking of chemicals, they stand side-by-side and look in the mirror above the sink.

Dean wont stop smiling, he keeps running his hands through it. Castiel doesn't blame him, it looks soft and fluffy and absolutely amazing. Somehow, it suits Dean so absolutely that Castiel feels like maybe pink was his natural color all along. 

He looks even better than he did before.

Castiel is fucked. 

 

The school is in an uproar over Dean's hair, everyone is talking about it, whether they love it or hate it. Castiel doesn't care. He doesn't give a single shit, because he keeps seeing that cotton-candy-pink hair and there's Dean, smiling and waving at him. It's heady, and Castiel feels drunk on it all day. He doesn't even consider that fact that Dean might want  _more_ to do with him, until lunch when he hears someone clearing their throat, and when he looks up he finds Dean and Charlie Bradbury.

“Um, can we...” Dean looks at the table, at Meg's tattoos and Gadreel's gauges, “Can we sit?”

“Uh.” Says Castiel, “Yeah.”

Dean slides in next to Castiel, so close that their legs are pressed together from hip to knee. Charlie sits on Dean's other side, leaving a respectable amount of space. Cas can see Meg looking between the two of them out of the corner of his eye, her face a mask of confusion and disbelief.

“Nice hair.” Says Gadreel.

Dean beams, rays of sunshine might as well be shooting from his mouth. “Thanks. Cas helped me do it.”

As one, everyone at the table looks at Castiel, with various alarming facial expressions. Castiel feels his face beginning to heat, warmth creeping up his cheeks at the attention.

Meg's eyes go wide, and Castiel knows he's caught.

“Oh my _god_ ,” She says, face splitting into a malicious grin, “He's _blushing_!”

“Fuck off.” Says Castiel.

Meg doesn't stop grinning, and she keeps looking thoughtfully between red-faced Castiel and friendly Dean. Castiel is sure she'll say more about it, probably when she's got him cornered someplace. Thankfully, she drops it for now.

 

To his horror, Meg catches Castiel outside the bathroom.

“You're dating him, aren't you?” She's got this look in her eye, fiendish delight at being the first one to know new gossip.

“What?” Says Castiel, wiping the water from his hands onto his pants, “Who?”

“Dean! You're dating _Dean Winchester_! I can't believe this. I can't believe this is happening.” Again, she looks delighted, but in a way that has Castiel wanting to shield his privates.

“I'm not, though.” He protests.

Meg gives him a look, “You can lie to all those other sheep, Castiel, but I’m your  _best friend_ , and if you're dating Dean Winchester you had better tell me  _everything_ !”

“We're not dating!”

“Hooking up?” She gasps, “Who was on top?”

“God, get _off_ me you goddamn perv.” Castiel pushes past her, “Get your own boyfriend.”

“So you _are_ -”

“No!”

 

Somehow, she's not the only one who thinks Dean and Castiel are dating.

He's walking to Spanish when it happens again, this time with Jo Harvelle.

“Hey,” She says, sidling up beside him, “So what's going on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?” Says Castiel, making this the longest conversation they've had in three and a half years of high school.

“Look, all I know is, one day he's normal and the next he's got pink hair and hanging all over you. So like, what the hell did you do?”

“Nothing!” Castiel insists.

“Why don't I believe you?”

“I don't _know_.”

There's a pause, “Are you guys fucking?”

“ _Jesus Christ_ , why does everyone think that?”

She doesn't answer.

“And _why_ ,” he continues, when he realizes she's not going to speak, “does anyone think it's any of their business?”

Jo purses her lips, “I think we deserve to know.”

“You know what? I don't think you do. I gotta go, see ya.”

 

It's annoying. Supremely annoying. These people think they deserve to know anything about his life, despite the fact that half of them have been making fun of him for years? Fuck that. Forget the fact that there's nothing going on, these asshole need to mind their own business. There are more instances, too. Girls asking excitedly, guys asking worriedly. Honestly, it's the worst, and it's pissing Castiel off. 

The only good thing is that people seem to like Dean enough to leave him alone, they only pester Castiel. 

 

“So, hey,” Dean says, mouth full of fries, “You seem tense lately.”

Castiel chews his own food, thoughtfully. They're sitting in a booth at Denny's, and he's not sure this is the place to tell Dean about his worries. He shrugs.

“Like, more tense than usual.”

Castiel grunts.

Dean looks at him, waiting for an answer. When he doesn't get one, he rolls his eyes. “You're really not going to tell me?”

“'s not important.”

Dean purses his lips and shakes his head, he looks frustrated. “Something  _is_ up though? I thought so. If you tell me, maybe I can help.”

Castiel looks at him, at his honest face and expressive green eyes. His candy-pink hair. Suddenly, he has a thought.  


“Why'd you want to dye your hair?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you suddenly want to dye it?”

Dean blinks, looks down at his plate, shrugs. “I, um. I dunno. I guess I just... get tired of being me, sometimes? You know? And I thought- I thought maybe it would be nice to try something new.”

Castiel, well, he's not exactly sure what he feels. While he understands the need to change and he  _really_ understands not wanting to be yourself, he doesn't get why  _Dean_ wouldn't want to be  _Dean_ . Dude's like, the epitome of humanity. 

He opens his mouth to say this, realizes it's far too much, and tries to think of something else.

“But like- _everyone_ likes you.”

Dean takes a breath and releases it quickly, still not meeting Castiel's eyes.

“They like me because I’m _polite_. That's it. That's the whole secret. They don't- they don't actually like _me._ ” 

There's a part of Castiel that almost takes personal offense to this, to the fact that anyone would just like Dean because he's polite, or because that's what Dean thinks, he's not sure which.

“Of course they like you, dude, you're fucking great.” He says, maybe a little too vehemently. 

Dean looks back at him, finally, pink hair falling into his eyes, a blush staining his cheeks. “You...” He swallows, and begins tentatively again, “You think I'm great?”

“Yeah, fuck, man. Yeah, I think you're fucking awesome.” There must be something in these fucking fries.

There's several long moments of silence between them, and then Dean blurts, “Then why did you stop hanging out with me?”

“When...?”

“You know when. The summer I moved here, we hung out all the time and then when school started you ditched me.”

“I didn't-”

“You _did_.”

Now it's Castiel's turn to avoid eye-contact. “It's complicated.”

Dean huffs, looking terribly young all of a sudden, “Fine. Whatever. Don't tell me.”

“C'mon, man, don't be like that.”

Dean shakes his head. “Whatever. I don't know. I thought we could be friends again, but you won't even tell me why you ditched me in the first place, how do I know you won't again?”

“I won't.”

“I gotta go.” 

Dean starts to get up, and Castiel begins to panic. He reaches out and grasps Dean's wrist over the table.

“Wait!” He lowers his voice to a whisper and tries to brace himself, “I had a crush on you.” He whispers as loudly as he dares.

“You what?” Says Dean, looking stunned.

“Had a crush. On you. I had a huge fucking crush and it freaked me the hell out. And I’m sorry- sorry I just ditched you, okay? I just- I got scared, I guess.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry I just dropped all that on you. I guess- I don't know. You can leave, if you want. I'll get the bill.”

Dean looks confused. “Why... why would I leave?”

“I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable or whatever. I get it.”

Dean frowns. “You. Are such a fucking idiot.”

“ _Wow_. Okay.” 

“I have _been hitting on you_.”

“What now?”

“Me. Hitting on you. As hard as I could. God, I thought I was being obvious. What do I need, a sign? Should I just wear a shirt that says, _i'm gay and interested in you, specifically_?” 

“Oh.”

“I know, right?”

They both sit back and look at each other. The world seems slightly different now. Confusing, but better? Castiel thinks maybe things look brighter. There's a boy across the table that's interested in him, specifically.

“I guess, uh. I guess we're at an impasse.”

“Do you... still like me.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then... you should ask me out.”

“What, why me? Why can't _you_ ask _me_ out?”

“I'm fragile.” Dean pouts. 

And, somehow, this all makes perfect sense. “Yeah. Okay. Do you, uh,” He clears his throat, “Do you wanna go out with me, maybe? Sometime?”

Dean smiles, “Well,  _yeah_ .”

“Heh, I guess the whole school already thinking we're dating will save time, huh?”

“Excuse me, they what?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you don't think cas is going to have his hands all up in dean's pink hair while they make out, you're nuts


End file.
